


Insistent

by mansklig



Category: The Walking Dead
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 20:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16793779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansklig/pseuds/mansklig
Summary: "Are you quoting Taylor Swift?" Paul fights off the urge to smack him across the face, and he replies, arms crossing against his chest,"Thought you didn't listen to shitty country singers."





	Insistent

Paul opened his eyes, feeling the sunny rays tickling his sensitive gaze. Moving the hand wrapped around him, he flips himself so he's laying on his back, and waits for the wakening of Daryl Dixon.

The memories of last night start flooding his vision, worsening the headache that was pounding in his head.

He was a little tipsy when he reached Daryl's apartment, not exactly sure of why he headed there in the first place. The rest of the night was a blur. He remembers bits of a fight, some sharp curses flowing out of snarling lips. He remembers Daryl asking him to leave, then pushing him into the bedroom when Paul refuses.

And he was laying on the bed now, naked, the uncomfortable wetness inside of him hinting last night's swirling of events.

He stares at the man laying next to him, hair disheveled, features relaxed, low snores leaving his lips. Paul rolls his eyes, thinking about how he'd love to interact with a sleeping Daryl, rather than the raging tantrum he's been bumping to every time they spoke, and how easier his life would be if the man was as peaceful as he looked right now.

Some minutes later he feels Daryl steering awake. Paul's hand moves to the phone that was laying on the floor, beside the pair of jeans that were ripped off his legs within yesterday's late hours.

"Mornin'." Daryl mumbles into the pillow, his voice hoarse.

"Morning." Paul replies, eyes fixated onto the rectangular screen, almost subconsciously, in hopes of averting his attention to something other than Daryl.

"What time s'it?" Daryl asks, rubbing his eyes, then brushing the bangs off them.

"Eleven thirty."

Daryl frowns at the man's almost robotic tone. He then scoots closer to him, lowering his taller physique and pressing his lips against the other's ear.

"Somethin' wrong?" Daryl asks, his sturdy fingers brushing against Paul's bare waist. The bearded man's eyes don't move, and he continues scrolling whatever app he was busy in, as if Daryl wasn't talking.

"Paul." Daryl repeats, more demanding.

"What do you think?" Paul asks, smiling sarcastically, as he presses the iPhone's button shut. His hand moves to Daryl's, the one brushing against his torso, and he pushes it off.

"The fuck s'wrong with ya, I ain't in the mood for one f'your outbursts right now." Daryl says, eyebrows furrowing, as the flash of rising anger coates his blue eyes.

"Then why are you asking?" Paul replies, questioning. The sarcastic smile is still plastered on his face.

"Whatever, ya should just leave." Daryl says, rolling his eyes, boredom glazing his voice.

"Didn't wait for your lazy ass to wake up so you can kick me out." Paul says, his arms crossing in front of his chest. The tiny pout that forms on his lips coaxes Daryl into whatever conversation Paul wanted to have.

"Then s'wrong? No smart ass replies." Daryl warns, resting his weight on his elbow so he can face Paul.

"Aren't you tired of this?" Paul asks, locking gazes with Daryl, disappointment evident in his voice.

"I mean, i liked the careless attitude when we first met, but it's been a year Daryl."

A whole year of them dancing around whatever they were, whatever they wanted to be. Their first meeting was at a gay bar, they shared a couple of drinks, and their night ended with mind-blowing sex that left them both craving for more.

Daryl didn't usually do seconds, he preferred the whole 'no-strings attached' thing, and seconds definitely meant attaching strings. Paul was going through a bad break up, and the thought of having his mind off it was all that mattered at the time.

So they went for seconds, and thirds, and fourths and fifths and sixths, and eventually Paul was hanging around Daryl's apartment more than a one-night stand ought to be.

Daryl shrugged the relationship into the friends with benefits category, and he still did, but it was a bit more complicated for Paul.

Four months into whatever they had, and Paul found himself getting annoyed at the presence of other men in Daryl's bed, he found himself getting jealous when Daryl left the bar they entered together with a handsome man in his arms.

So he distanced himself, he pulled away to prevent the feelings from overwhelming his power of controlling them, he stopped calling him to ask about how his day went, he stopped texting him the funny memes Daryl found no-where near humoring.

But then Daryl tugged him closer, he started taking the initiative, he started calling, he started going over to Paul's, he started staying the night then staying a little more in the morning, having breakfast or watching television.

And Paul was infatuated. Extremely confused yet absolutely infatuated.

This went on for a while, and then Paul decided to take the initiative of confessing, because maybe that's what Daryl was waiting for to stop kissing other men, maybe he was offering himself in the only way he knew.

So he confessed, and regret filled him to the core because nothing was the same after that.

Because Daryl didn't want that, because Daryl didn't do relationships, because Daryl liked change, because Daryl wanted to snag different lips every night, because Daryl thought they were friends- with benefits maybe, but friends nonetheless, nothing more.

Paul's first reaction- _again_ , was one of distance, putting as much space between them so he can get over his feelings. But the weekend following his humiliating confession was accompanied by Daryl coming over with Paul's favorite pineapple pizza- even though he _absolutely hated_ pineapples- as he talked about how Paul's feelings changed nothing between them- and that he was lucky because sex must feel better since he seemed to like him like that now.

Paul hated himself when he found himself acting like nothing ever occurred, and he hated himself even more when he started finding his way to Daryl's bed again. But things were going smoothly, and the eventual teasing wasn't as bad as he expected.

Everything went well, and for a while, they both forgot about the one-sided feelings lingering between them.

That is, until around a month ago, when Daryl lied to Paul about not being able to make it over because he wasn't feeling well, though in reality, he was fucking a guy senselessly onto the mattress.

Paul's worry intensified when Daryl didn't pick up his phone, and he decided to check up on him because the single text of how he wasn't feeling well didn't ease his worry.

He chuckled humorlessly when a flustered Daryl opened the door, purple bruises evident on his neck. And then his eyes widened in plain surprise at the familiar face he had seen in Daryl's phone a couple of times appear behind Daryl.

Daryl tried to explain, not knowing why he wanted to in the first place, yet he tried. They ended up fighting anyways, with Paul shouting about how he was a dumb fool for putting up with this shit again and storming off.

They didn't talk after that, until last night, that is. And that brings them here, the current 'talk' situation they were in.

"S'not a careless attitude, you're the one ragin' over nonsense." Daryl says.

"Raging over nonsense? Have you even thought of apologizing? We haven't talked for a whole month, yet the first thing you do when you see me is push me into a bed!" Paul says, his voice getting louder.

"I don' remember havin' somethin' t'apologize for, you're the one who came 'ere last time, callin' me a fool and runnin' like some psycho." Daryl replies, they were sitting now, facing each other.

"Maybe i wouldn't have said that if you weren't fucking the same guy that did this to you in the first place! Hell- maybe i wouldn't have come at all if you told me you'd rather fuck the asshole who dumbed your ass a week before getting engaged, instead of coming over!"

"If ya tryin' t'push my buttons it ain't workin', cut it off Paul, ain't your business who I fuck with."

"Okay." Daryl's brows furrow over the reply, and Paul adds,

"I'm gonna leave now, because i keep forgetting that talking to you is a waste of time." Paul gets off the bed, and he starts pulling his clothes on, as he keeps talking.

"Don't care if you're okay with being led on, you can wait for him for the rest of your life for all i care!- but i'm not waiting anymore, because i deserve better than a clueless asshole like you." Daryl gets off the bed quickly, jumping to the door that Paul reaches for,

"Would you stop bein' so fuckin' dramatic? Jesus christ, if s'an apology you're askin' for then i'm sorry, don't exactly know what for but there ya go." Daryl says, the same bored expression painting his features. Paul shakes his head, part of him sympathetic, he knew Daryl cared about him, but fuck- Daryl was so good at acting like he didn't care that sometimes Paul forgets he did.

Paul's gaze doesn't move from the other man's, and then he adds, as his index finger pokes his chest lightly,

"You know what I really hate about you?" He doesn't wait for a response from Daryl,

"How you keep pretending that you don't know that you're the reason I feel like shit."

"How you keep pretending that you don't know i'm so hurt because of you."

"How you keep pretending that you don't know you're the reason why I'm drowning!"

Daryl chuckles, and then he asks, his eyebrow raised, lips grinning,

"Are you quoting Taylor Swift?" Paul fights off the urge to smack him across the face, and he replies, arms crossing against his chest,

"Thought you didn't listen to shitty country singers."

"I do, jus' didn't want ya to think I was a southern redneck with shitty music taste." Daryl says, his hand reaching over Paul's cheek, as he adds, still smiling,

"Guess it don't matter now though, since ya like me so much?"

"You think this is funny? I'm not joking with you, not until you figure your shit out." Paul says, pushing the comforting fingers reluctantly. Daryl's fingers slip to the other man's waist, and he pulls him closer.

"M'bad at figurin' shit out, ya probably know that already." He murmurs, pecking the shorter man's ear.

"I thought you were over him." Paul whisperes, his head resting on Daryl's shoulder.

"Am."

"You're _so_ not." Paul scoffs,

"Maybe if ya shut up and listen ya'd know what happened." Daryl says.

"I actually didn't feel well, didn't lie 'bout that. He just came all o'sudden, didn't call or nothin'." Daryl continues, his eyes now meeting Paul's, who raised his head to look at him.

"Oh you must've been so annoyed at that, you must have been so annoyed that you invited him inside for a quickie." Paul mumbles sarcastically, pulling away from the warm embrace.

"I was surprised he was there, he came in and started talkin' shit 'bout his wife and how he weren't happy-"

"Oh yeah, so you felt obliged to help him out. You know, i really won't be feeling as bad if it was someone _other_ than Rick."

"I felt like shit 'bout it too alright! It jus' happened, s'not like we went far, he left after your nosy ass interrupted."

"Whatever, doesn't matter, not now anyway." Paul says, sighing.

"Are ya not likin' the sex or somethin'?"

"I'm not complimenting your activities in bed." Paul replies, rolling his eyes.

"Then why are ya makin' shit complicated?" Daryl asks,

"Because i'm 29 years old, and you're 35 years old, and we're too old to be having unserious relationships. It's either everything or nothing."

"Stop bein' greedy, no one gets everythin'." Daryl says, moving to the sit on the bed, now that Paul was sitting on it too.

"Had everything with Alex." Paul mumbled.

"Ya, and that worked out so well." Daryl replies, snorting.

"You know, maybe i should be the one asking you if you're liking the sex." Paul says, not offended by the earlier response.

"Why else would i put up with ya." Daryl replies.

"Nice. Feels great to know you put up with me because i'm a good fuck." Paul says, a little hurt and maybe a little overdramatic, but he wanted to make Daryl feel guilty, even if it was an asshole move.

"S'not what i meant asshole. Jokin'." 

"Uh huh." 

Daryl rolls his eyes, he knew what Paul wanted to hear.

"I like you, alright, the sex yes, but also you.. You're a cool guy and.." He hates how awkward he sounds, and its a reminder to why he didn't want to have this conversation in the first place.

"Then why are you sleeping with other guys, if i'm good enough, why do you go searching for someone else, someone who doesn't care about you like i do?"

"Because if i don't, we'll be in a relationship, and that ain't what we are."

Paul rolls his eyes at the childish reply, and he mutters quietly,

"I really don't get you Daryl."

"I ain't.. You're great, everythin' I'd want in somebody.. and I don't wanna ruin that for us. We haven't spoken for a whole damn month because of a stupid fight, and I don't wanna risk losin' ya because I wasn't committed or fuckin' whatever." He sounds frustrated, like he's barely croaking the words out, _like he's barely finding the right words to croak out._

_ "Then be committed." _

Paul on the other hand, felt pathetic, felt like he was begging for the love of a man and he never did that,

_ Paul didn't beg, he didn't ask people to stay._

_ He walked them to the door then shut it after them. _

But with Daryl, it was so different with Daryl. 

It was almost like he didn't care about his pride when it came to the man, and _yes it was shameful,_ but Daryl's reactions to his words were always so intoxicating and captivating and worth it.

_So worth it._

_Every single time._

"What if i can't? What if I get angry or pissed or drunk and I fuck up, no- _not what,_ when I fuck up, what happens then huh?" Daryl asks.

"You come talk to me, we work it out, _we communicate_ , Daryl."

"Ya ain't gonna like it." Daryl says, shaking his head.

Paul's heart skips a beat. 

"How about you let me decide if I like it or not?"

"I'm an asshole when I'm drunk, or angry, or both."

"I don't mind you being an asshole, as long as you apologize after being one. I don't mind angry sex either." Daryl rolls his eyes, but he doesn't say anything after that. 

Paul's heart skips another beat. And he hates how squeaky his voice sounds when he speaks, but he doesn't care.

"So?"

"You're such a fuckin' pest."

Paul's big eyes keep blinking at him, not offended by the far from hostile remark. 

"Good lord, Paul. Don't make this weird. It ain't gonna be anythin' different, we'll just stop fuckin' other people.." Daryl says, a light, almost unnoticeable blush coats his cheeks.

"Make this weird? You mean by letting my inner sap take over? Guess I can call you honey and baby and all those cute pet names now-"

Daryl groans, even though some part of him secretly warms at the thought of being called such names.

"And, for the record, I've stopped fucking other people for a while now." 

Daryl smiles at that, and he thinks, as Paul tackles his lap and kisses him;

Maybe taking a chance like this really isn't a bad idea after all. 

Paul, on the other hand, can't wait to start introducing Daryl as his boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> really dont want this ship to ever die :(


End file.
